


Horizon

by Crowsnight66



Series: Writing Prompts and One-Shots [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mertalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowsnight66/pseuds/Crowsnight66
Summary: His eyes are blue like the horizon. It's not where I belong, above the water, but Francis wants to give up his tail for Arthur...I love Alfred enough. I want the horizon for myself. RusAme. Slight FrUK. Mertalia. Warnings inside.





	Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story is rated T for angst, major character death, and shounen-ai/yaoi.

_“The hardest part about walking away from someone is where you realize that, no matter how slowly you go, they will never run after you.”_

_―Genereux Philip_

oO_Oo_oO_Oo

 _“We really shouldn’t be here,”_ I say as I follow Francis through the swamp. _“What if a human sees us?”_

The other merman laughs and flicks his aqua blue tail with extra force so that the water rolls into my face. _“Relax, Ivan. Arthur promised that humans never come out here.”_

_“But he’s a human. Humans lie. Why was he out here in the first place?”_

_“He was speaking with the fae, apparently.”_ Francis laughs and swims under a tree root, pausing long enough for me to catch up. His shoulder-length, golden hair floats around him, and his eyes glow in the slightly murky water, a vibrant blue that matches his tail. A more elegant tail, too, adorned with long, flowing fins, glittering scales, and a translucent, sleek fin at the end.

My tail is stronger and thicker than his, and my fins are short and spiky. The color is darker, too, a deep amethyst like the stone that my sister wears around her neck.

 _“He’s bringing his best friend, so I brought you,”_ Francis continues. _“And I promise that you can trust him; he’s kept our secret.”_

I sigh and feel my gills flutter on the sides of my neck as a result. _“How long have you been courting him?”_

_“At least ten moon cycles. Arthur calls them ‘months’.”_

_“And what will you do when you want to give him your belt?”_ I gesture to the adornment of woven seaweed, water vines, and shells. _“He doesn’t have a tail, and you don’t have legs.”_

Francis begins to swim again, leaving me to speed after him. _“Lukas says that there is magic to help with that.”_

Before I can say anything else, I see the dark form of a human boat, blocking the sun from the swamp floor. Francis moves to a tree nearby, hidden in the roots as he peeks just over the water’s surface. The little smile on his face is enough for me to know that the boat belongs to Arthur and his friend.

 _“What language do they speak?”_ I ask as we swim closer. _“Is it English? That’s the only human language I know.”_

Francis nods _. “English.”_

When we break the surface a few feet away, it takes a few moments for the two humans to notice our presence. But the one that does―a blonde with blue eyes and…a shiny thing on his face―immediately leans slightly over the edge of the boat and exclaims, “Dude, you weren’t kidding! They have gills!”

His neck is smooth. I frown. Well, I’ve never seen humans this close; they look so odd. Their bodies are covered in some sort of limp, colorful plant that hugs them. And there are… _legs_.

“You really believe that I would joke about this?” the other asks. He has slightly more wild hair, though still blonde, and green eyes. He doesn’t have that shiny thing around his eyes either.

I lean closer to Francis and ask in Mermish, _“Which is Arthur?”_

 _“Green eyes,”_ he replies with a little grin. _“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”_

_“What is on them?”_

_“It’s called ‘clothes’. Humans wear them unless they are with their mates.”_

_“Why?”_

_“They can’t hide their sexes.”_

I look at him with wide eyes. _“It’s just…out?”_

Francis nods.

_“Isn’t that uncomfortable?”_

_“That’s why they wear clothes.”_

That’s when I hear Blue Eyes―his voice is very distinctive―say, “Do they even speak American?”

“It’s _English_ , you daft Yank,” Arthur grumbles. “And yes, they do, or Francis does, at least. I don’t know the merman with him.”

Francis nods his head in the humans’ direction. _“That is our cue, yes?”_ He begins in English, “You have not waited for long, have you?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Not really. Alfred doesn’t know how to read a map―”

“It’s a _swamp_!” Blue Eyes protests. “It all looks the same!”

I glance around. Towering trees, lots of green, and a thick canopy that blocks the abyss above. And it does all look the same, nothing like my underwater home in the ocean. Or the river. Or just under the swamp’s surface.

“Francis, this is Alfred,” Arthur says, gesturing to the other human.

“It is nice to meet you,” Francis says.

“Yeah, you, too.” Alfred smiles, and his teeth are flat. Just flat. How does he eat anything?

Francis then looks to me.

“N-name is…Ivan,” I say. Now I remember why I hated learning English; too much lip and teeth involved and not enough pitch. “Nice meet you.”

“You as well,” Arthur says, and Alfred nods.

From there, Arthur begins speaking with Francis about…a lot of stuff I don’t understand. I think that it’s work. And Alfred seems uninterested with the topic and is content to stare at Francis. But before I can say anything, we are moving to the closest shoreline because of “swimsuits”, whatever that is.

“And you’re sure that nothing’s going to bite me? Or eat me?” Alfred asks. He watches as Arthur steps out of the boat and into the water.

It’s shallow. Really shallow. The ventral part of my tail is in mud, and the water laps at my lower back, on either side of my spinal fin. Francis doesn’t seem to mind this at all, so far up that most of his tail is partially above water.

“You have nothing to fear,” Francis answers. “No creature bothers the merfolk.”

So Alfred clambers out of the boat after Arthur, yelping the slightest bit as his feet sink into the mud. Such odd things, feet. It’s like the stumps of the legs needed to be bigger so someone pounded them flat. Not that the legs themselves are normal by any means.

I continue to stare at Alfred’s legs as the human sits in the water and complains about his “swim trunks” being muddy.

And then Francis is all wrapped up in his human, and Arthur is just as absorbed in his merman. I don’t really understand the fuss. But then again, I still just want to touch those weird appendages that humans call “legs”. An odd word, too.

“So your name is Ivan?”

When I glance up, Alfred’s blue, blue eyes meet mine. It’s not the same color as Francis’s eyes. It’s brighter, sparkling behind the circles over his eyes, and I think about the sky. That strip of blue that seems more radiant against the horizon in the midday.

“Y-yes,” I reply. “You are Alfred.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He smiles, and again, I can see his blunt teeth. “What’s it like having a tail?”

“T-tail? Is…uh, different?” I look over my shoulder, lifting my fin above the shallow water.

Alfred nods quickly. “Yeah, it’s different! It’s freaking cool!”

“Cool? Tail cool? Cool bad?”

“No, cool’s good, dude.”

I open my mouth to reply, though I’m not sure what I’m going to say―

“Whoa, weird teeth, too!” Alfred tilts his head, leaning closer. “Like shark teeth.”

I nod slowly. “Yes, t-to eat.”

“If I had teeth like that, I’d eat so much more steak!”

And that’s how it starts.

Oo_oO_Oo_oO

Lukas is a powerful sorcerer in our pod. Not powerful enough to give a human a tail, but powerful enough to transform a tail into legs, though irreversible.

Francis and I go through the process together, and we tell our humans that we have to live in the same home. Or apartment building, apparently. I don’t mind too much; Francis is next door, and we learn about human culture together. It’s all quite odd.

oO_Oo_oO_Oo

Arthur and Francis fight a lot. I don’t really understand it because most of their arguments are over really ridiculous things, but they always make up afterwards. And Arthur doesn’t show his affections as openly as Francis does, and even though he hides it, I know it bothers Francis when he tries to kiss his mate on the cheek, only to be pushed away. But Arthur wears a shell from Francis’s belt as a necklace, so I think that makes up for it.

It’s very different from me and Alfred.

Alfred has…problems with me sometimes. I guess we’re more different than he thought, because we argue constantly, and I know that it all stems from our different backgrounds. Especially language. English is hard to learn, and I’m not sure if Alfred understands that. And he has this weird obsession with “being a man”. I’m pretty sure he means being male, and it’s irritating, not to mention ridiculous. My pod never really cared about men and women. Women carry the children, and when they’re pregnant, their mate takes care of them. That’s where the differences in the sexes end.

And Alfred says that I’m using too much water taking baths. I can’t work, considering that I have no “papers”, or whatever Alfred calls them, but we’re getting that fixed. It’s just hard sometimes, and Alfred’s constantly stressed out about money. Another thing that my pod didn’t do, but Francis doesn’t understand it either, so I don’t feel as bad.

oO_Oo_oO_Oo

It’s late. Really late. I sit on the bed with my face in my hands as the door slams shut. It’s a bit quieter now, and emptier, without Alfred and his suitcase of clothes. I can hear Arthur in the hallway now, yelling at Alfred, and Francis is pounding on the door and asking if I’m alright.

Oo_oO_Oo_oO

It’s later now. Quieter. No Alfred, and Arthur and Francis have gone to bed, or at least, that’s what I assume.

Walking is the only form of transportation I have; Alfred took his car and all our money with him. Well, _his_ money, as he always would point out. And as I walk―miles and miles until the sun begins to peak over the horizon, until my shoes sink into mud, until the water reaches my waist―I wonder why Alfred was so concerned about personal belongings, about giving to me when I didn’t give back. I tried.

I look down at the water, dark and murky, as is typical of swamp water. So beautiful. So much more relaxing than that clear, warm water that spills from the bath faucet.

I gave my love, every bit of it I had. I gave my belt. I gave my _tail_. My tail, my family, and my entire way of life to live with legs and to be with him.

A drop of water falls to the water. That’s another thing I don’t understand about humans; why do their eyes leak? It’s painful, and it makes breathing more difficult. Those weird shudders down my spine, the noises choked out of my throat, and the way my nose stops working correctly.

I was willing to try. I would give anything to make him happy. Why won’t he do the same? Am I not enough?

 _I just want to go home_.

With a bitter smile, I sink down into the water, feeling my hair floating around me like it used to and digging my hands into the mud. It’s so nice. It’s _home_. But I have no gills. I have no tail. I’m human. So utterly, heart-wrenchingly human. But I do the only thing I know to do in water.

I breathe in.


End file.
